


So Far (It’s Alright)

by orphan_account



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmates, The Raven Cycle - Freeform, first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-07 15:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Based on that idea where a clock on your wrist ticks down whenever you meet your soulmate. Ronan and Adam meet, the former wanting nothing to do with their soulmate and the latter not even knowingwhenthey had met their soulmate.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my very first time publishing a fanfic and I am stressed. I’ve gone over this first chapter like ten times so I’m praying there’s no grammatical errors. I love TRC with my whole heart and I hope this fic does the characters justice. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is kinda short because it’s mainly just setting up the story and providing you with some background info. I plan to make the other chapters at least 3-4 thousand words.
> 
> The title is from So Far (It’s Alright), a masterpiece of a song by the 1975.

It had always been a thing. Buzzing in the back of his mind when the ink appeared on his wrist. He’d been fifteen, and a small clock had appeared just across the pale blue veins of his wrist sometime overnight. It read two minutes.

He’d soaked it in the shower, the last dregs of hot water running over it, gritting it teeth as it burned. If his father saw-

Every time he washed the cheap soap away, the markings would still be there, stark against his brown skin. 

The concept of soulmates is one Adam knew relatively well. It was all over in the media, and he’d pieced it together through snippets of magazines at the cornerstone and some radio stations. His father would always change the station or slam his fist atop the radio, muttering about the bullshit. 

He’d seen his mother’s wrist once. She used a knife to spread the peanut butter across a piece of bread, her sleeve riding up. The light from the window had caught it, and Adam’s young eyes had latched on curiously. It was frozen at thirty seconds. 

He’d asked about it. His mother had handed him the plastic plate and glared at him, the first time she’d let her anger slip at him, and told him to never bring it up again. 

He didn’t. 

Only later, the puzzle pieces clicked together. His mother’s clock had never gone off, she had never met her soulmate. She was also married to Robert Parrish. 

He felt he finally could comprehend, at least a bit, the loveless marriage between his parents. 

After a late night at the library, Adam had become acquainted with his father’s marking. A beer bottle was thrown, glass shattered across the carpet, and his father’s fist raced through the air with purpose. 

It had been at zero. Somewhere out there, his father had someone. Either that or he was unlucky enough to be stuck with a one-sided soulmate.

Adam didn’t care for the logistics of it. He really didn’t care for soulmates at all, not when school was finally picking up and the trailer home was becoming more of a personal hell. 

College was his escape, a shining beacon amongst his despair. He still remembered googling college admission prices out of curiosity after a desolate night. Just the out-of-state tuition costs made him feel ill. 

A week later he’d shown up at Boyd’s, his mind filled with five-figured numbers. 

And so, his life had become an endless loop: Work, tiptoe around the trailer home, and devote every bit of free time to studying. Soon, the clock on his wrist faded to the back of his mind, replaced by conjugated verbs and engine grease. 

Adam felt whole enough when he lay in his bed at night, knees pulled to his chest so his feet didn’t hang off the bed. He was getting by, slowly but surely, and he didn’t need a soulmate to complete himself. Whoever she was, they’d be better off without each other. 

He got by, day by day. The small wad of cash tucked away in a pair of socks slowly grew, he learned how to take a car apart and put it together again, and his teachers began to notice the lanky boy in the back of class with a perfect GPA. 

Then he gets the letter. He’d been accepted into Aglionby on scholarship. Partial scholarship but he’d manage. 

He was to be a Raven boy. Trailer trash amongst ridiculously rich boys reeking of arrogance. 

Junior year was going to be long. 

-

Ronan Lynch was a walking nightmare. 

At least, according to the class of Aglionby and anyone who had the displeasure of stumbling across him in town. 

He was teenage angst personified. He thrived off anything that gave him a rush, be it tires peeling off asphalt or the burn of alcohol down his throat. 

The Aglionby boys’ eyes lingered on him disapprovingly, frowning as he skipped class. Then one day he’d been leaving, headed towards his BMW when he’d heard it. A whispered word at his back. Faggot. 

Ronan had slammed the boy’s head, Ricardo or Chris or who-the-fuck-cares, into his Mercedes then left him lying in the dirt. 

So Ronan had slipped into the role, became what everyone believed him to be anyway. It didn’t really feel like a farce anymore. 

He’d left his friends, although most of them had already left when they heard of his father’s gruesome death and his resulting fall from society. They wouldn’t even risk putting even the slightest of smudges on their pristine reputation. 

Gansey was his anchor, the one he unwillingly clung to as his life descended into hell. And he had stuck by his side even as Ronan dealt with his grief the only way he could. He lashed out, barbed retorts becoming his shield. 

He relished looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger look back. Buzzed head, knitted brows, and his tattoo curling up his neck that he’d impulsively got after drinking himself hoarse. 

His own father wouldn’t even recognize him- 

The mark on his wrist used to be the center of his thoughts, his mind a constant thrum of who, who, who. He had a soulmate out there, someone he was destined to be with.

All his fantasies came crashing to a halt when he found his father laying on the driveway with his head bashed in. 

When his mother slipped away silently inside herself and never said a word to any of her sons that she’d loved again. When grief molded Declan into something entirely new, all clipped sentences and a cool detachment to them all. Matthew, ever the golden son, kept a smile plastered to his face and pretended everything was fine. 

Ronan could still hear him crying through their shared wall at night.

When his family fell apart is when he faced the sickening reality of it all. Whoever he was (because yes, his soulmate was very much a male), who was to say he would stick around? Would even want him? 

Ronan couldn’t piece the tatters of his broken family back together, hadn’t even come to terms with the gaping hole inside himself. How was he expected to find a soulmate, to fall in love? 

He was too busy throwing wadded up napkins at Noah and waiting impatiently for Gansey at Nino’s, he didn’t even realize his clock begin to tick down.

1:59.


	2. Meetings at Nino’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang gets introduced and Ronan and Adam meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for the comments on the last post :)) I’m going to try to update every few days! also the entire last half of this chapter was written when I was really tired so sorry for any mistakes.

The day started out as a series of mistakes. 

His alarm clock went off, but Adam slept through the first fifteen minutes. Neither of his parents bothered to wake him. The past week had been exhausting, and he could hardly summon up the energy to go to school.

He’d been at Aglionby for three months now, and it’d gone as well as he expected. There were two other boys he would nod at in the hallway and occasionally exchange pleasantries with, but that was it. He felt out of place in his secondhand uniform with its threadbare sleeves. 

Adam finally dragged himself out of bed and realized with a start he was about to be late. His perfect attendance and zero tardy record would be ruined. 

He hurriedly dressed and lingered in front of the fridge before leaving. There’s an empty package of granola bars in the cabinet and the milk carton only had a few ounces left swirling in the bottom of the container.

Last time he’d drank the last of the milk, it hadn’t gone over well.

Adam pedaled furiously on his bike, the chipped red paint peeling so it looked more metal than red. His head swam and the countryside blurred, but he’d be fine.

The ride to school was seven minutes. The bell rang in five.

The last hill finally came into view and Aglionby Academy appeared in the distance. Metal columns and bright glass windows. The parking lot was already full of sleek, expensive cars. 

The last turn to town, he stopped dead in his tracks, so abrupt he nearly sent himself sailing over his handlebars. A car drives past with a deafening engine punctuated by a few honks. Adam flips him off, but immediately regrets it when he sees the white Mitsubishi pull into Aglionby. That could’ve been a _ teacher. _

A bright orange Camaro is pulled over on the side of the road. The hood is popped, and smoke curls faintly through the morning air. Adam knows immediately who the ostentatiously colored car belongs to.

Richard Gansey the III is a legend in Aglionby. All the teachers know him on a first-name basis and he has a crowd of at least twenty follow him from class to class. Adam has one class with him, Latin, and he sits up front chatting amiably with anyone who will listen. He wanted to hate him at first, but it was so _hard. _

Gansey had never talked to him personally, but he was one of the boys Adam exchanged nods with and the occasional fist bump with. 

He slowly biked down the road until the Camaro came into full view. Pity twisted in his gut as Gansey stood before the engine looking utterly confused for once in his life. 

Adam hesitated.

He tossed his bike on the side of the road, tried futilely to get the rusted kickstand to work, and approached him. “I can take a look at it. I mean, if you want?” His Henrietta accent slips out, so _ brash_ and _unprofessional. _

Gansey finally looked at him, hazel eyes lighting up. He expected scorn or for him to scoff indignantly, but instead Gansey offers a hand. “Adam, right? We have Latin.”

A strenuous allegiance is made. He fixes the engine enough for Gansey to make it to Aglionby, jolting the cables and fixing the spark plug. They stand there, Adam awkwardly reaching for his bike and Gansey staring at him with blatant fascination written across his features. . 

The bell rang two minutes ago. 

Gansey, ever chivalrous, said, “Allow me to give your a ride. I’m sure your bike will fit in the back.”

“No, that’s alright-“ Adam tried to protest, but Gansey already grabbed his piece of shit bike with a look of determination on his face. Not for the first time, he found himself captivated by Gansey’s looks. His face is all soft lines, his nose regal and straight. 

Gansey looked up at him and Adam looked away.

There was a smear of grease across his polo shirt but he didn’t seem to care. 

He helped Gansey with his bike and got in the car. 

And that was how Adam found himself in the passenger seat of a car worth more than his trailer, cruising to Aglionby with the king of all the raven boys.

They make it to Latin five minutes after the bell, but Gansey offers up a quick smile. “Car troubles, sir. My apologies, it won’t happen again.” Whelk waves them on with a frown and they narrowly avoid a detention. Gansey sits down and motions toward the empty seat next to him. 

He takes it. 

He distinctly remembers a second boy hanging around with Gansey, but he doesn’t see him at all that day.

After school, Adam shrugged his bag over his shoulder and headed to the parking lot. He had a shift at Boyd’s at five, and he needed his bike so he can study at the library till then. 

Gansey is already waiting for him, leaning against the truck casually. It would’ve looked cooler if he had foregone the boat shoes.

“Thank you again, for the ride,” Adam said. Gansey had surprised him today. He really wasn’t half-bad. Under different circumstances, they could probably have been friends. 

He waves a hand through the air like it’s nothing. “I should be thanking you for the car. Listen, I’m meeting some friends at Nino’s right now. Would you like to come?”

Adam glanced at the cheap watch on his wrist. It’s four hours ahead, and he quickly did the math. He _ could _skip his studying, he was already pretty prepared for the history test.

Still, he didn’t want a pity invite. He wasn’t quite sure if the money in his wallet was enough for a meal either. 

Adam found himself shaking his head. “I really shouldn’t-“

“I insist. Really.” 

And so, for the second time that day Adam found himself back in Gansey’s car. A classical song played softly from the radio, but Gansey talked over it the entire time. He’d asked about school, classes, and college. “What made you decide to come to Aglionby?”

“I got a scholarship.” Adam said flatly. This was a bad idea. Surely Gansey would realize just how poor he was and want nothing to do with _trailer trash. _

“Partial scholarship, right? I heard Aglionby never gives out full rides. Do your parents handle the rest?”

_ No. _ “Yes,” he said. If his parents knew that Aglionby wasn’t a full scholarship, if they found out just how much he made between his three jobs- Adam swallowed. 

“You must be really smart, I suppose. I mean, I’ve seen you in Latin. You really are brilliant.”

Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d been praised. It felt like a trick, like there were insults veiled beneath his words. Gansey’s face was open and sincere. 

“Oh, thank you. You too”

Gansey only nodded. A slightly awkward silence hung over them until Gansey turned to Adam, a light in his eyes. “What do you know about Welsh Kings?”

For the next five minutes, Gansey spoke rapidly fast. Something about ley lines, and a dead king called Glendower. The day felt utterly surreal, and for a minute Adam wondered if the lack of food had gotten to him and he was hallucinating. 

He didn’t even notice the clock on his watch slowly tick down as they pulled into the parking lot of Nino’s.

_ 1:59. _

-

Gansey and his friend, were certainly _ something. _

He’d awkwardly walked up the the corner booth and introduced himself. He already knew the one boy. 

Noah Czerny. A blonde haired boy in their year with smudges beneath his eyes and a broad smile across his face. He couldn’t be a few more months than Adam, but something about him made him look younger. 

“Adam! Gansey didn’t tell us you were coming,” he leveled an accusing glare at Gansey as he slid into the empty booth across Noah. 

Adam opted to sit next to Noah, the boy immediately making room for him. “It was news to me too,” he said drily.

Adam could’ve sworn that Gansey had said friends not just friend. 

“Gansey,” Noah chastised, “Don’t tell me you kidnapped someone else into our circle.” 

“He came willingly. I merely offered-“ Gansey interjected sheepishly. 

Noah turned back to Adam, dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Did he give you the _talk?”_

“Noah-“ Gansey said. 

“What talk?”

“You know, the whole Welsh King spiel. Ley lines and Glendower and whatnot.”

“Oh,” Adam said. Apparently the Glendower thing was well-known within Gansey’s circle of friends. “Yes. It was... interesting.”

Noah snorted, and Gansey quickly spun the conversation back around. “Where’s Ronan at?”

So there was a third friend. 

Noah nodded towards the back hallway. “He got a phone call and flipped out. I’m assuming he’s in the restroom either having an existential crisis or he’s still on the phone with Declan.”

Adam quirked a brow but Gansey merely nodded like this was a common occurence. Who was Declan?

A blonde waitress stopped by then and took their order. Gansey asked for a glass of coke and a serving of fries as an appetizer, Noah ordered a milkshake with extra whip.

Adam settled for a glass of water.

It was weirdly refreshing, though, seeing these Raven boys order junk food just like normal teenagers. He’d pegged them as a healthy dieting type, maybe even a vegetarian. 

Adam stirred his straw through his cup and sipped his water, ice clinking against the sides. 

Gansey jolted like he’d been kicked beneath the table. Noah grinned, “Someone has a crush.”

A spiky haired waitress made her way through Nino’s, balancing a tray of food against her hip. Her uniform had been almost redone, with different patches of fabric crossing over it, and a variety of colored barrettes poked out of her hair. She flashed a bright smile at someone across the room and Adam swallowed. She _was_ pretty. 

The way Gansey watched her made him move all of those thoughts to the back of his mind. He was clearly enamored, and color bloomed on his cheeks as he turned back to the table. “I wasn’t- I just thought the food she was holding looked delicious.”

“Right,” Adam said, “The _food.” _

For a minute, he thought he might have overstepped. Might had misjudged his place in the group but Noah began to laugh and Gansey frowned good-naturedly.

-

Ronan sat on the floor of the bathroom. His phone was still clenched in his hand, even though he’d hung up on his brother five minutes ago. 

Declan called to say the usual. 

_ I don’t want you around Matthew anymore. You’ve become a bad influence. I swear to God, Ronan, if you go back to the Barns- _

Ronan closed his eyes. He clenched his phone hard enough to leave imprints in his palm, and then shoved it in his pocket.

The small bathroom reeked of piss. The single stall had a variety of expletives and confessions of love written on it. He’d probably contract some flesh-eating disease just by lingering here. 

He pushed up off the floor and walked to the sink. His skin looked garishly pale against the harsh fluorescent lights, and his eyes were like ice. 

Ronan washed his hands quickly. He dried his hands off and crumpled up the paper towel, tossing it in the trash. It bounced off the rim and onto the floor, but he only dimly registered this.

His wrist. 

The numbers are slowly ticking down. _ 1:09. _

He watches as another second ticks away. He has a _soulmate_. His soulmate is nearby, just a minute away.

Ronan doesn’t think. He moves, kicking the door open. It hits the wall with a thud. He sees Gansey and Noah sitting at their typical booth, the former calling out his name. He crosses the restaurant and he ignores him, heading to the glass doors leading out of Nino’s. 

He shoves past a woman throwing her trash away, pressing his hand against the door handle. A wrist closed over his arm before he could leave. 

Ronan sneered at Gansey. “Let go of me, dick.”

Gansey loosened his grip and rubbed his head. “Ronan, I don’t know what you and Declan argued about but-“

A bell rang behind him, and Ronan saw a muscled blonde boy leave the diner. His shoulders relax. He can’t check his wrist since Dick still had his hand in the way, but that must’ve been his soulmate. 

Ronan allowed himself one last glance as the boy got into a blue covertible. He tuned back into Gansey’s conversation. 

“...could at least have dinner with us.” Gansey said, taking a deep breath. 

Ronan nodded. “Alright.”

Gansey looked surprised at the sudden mood change, but led him back to the table. Ronan pulled back his wristband and swore. 

_0:05_

He sees Noah first, talking enigmatically to someone. Delicate golden hands come into view, fiddling with a straw wrapper. It’s the middle of summer but sleeves are pulled low over his wrists. Then a muss of dark hair, the sharp curve of a neck. 

_0:04 _

Ronan wants to turn around. 

_0:03 _

Gansey slides back into the booth, grinning. “Ronan, this is who I was just telling you about. Adam, meet Ronan.”

_ 0:02 _

The boy turned then, his face fine-boned and delicate. His brows are faint against his skin, his lips curving down in the corner. Freckles cover his cheeks like constellations. Ronan meets his icy blue eyes and blinks.

_ Fucking hell._

The clock ticks zero.

Ronan thinks he might be having a panic atrack. His chest is tightening painfully and the walls of Nino’s seem to be pressing in. He wants to run. Or be ill. Or both. 

The boy, Adam, his soulmate, offers up a hesitant smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Adam looks like he might reach out to shake his hand but thinks better of it. Gansey looks between them. “Ronan, you know Adam, right? We all have Latin.”

Ronan slides back into his seat and grabs a handful of fries from Gansey’s plate. 

_ Blood coated the tire iron, soaking the ground and running down the driveway. His shoes squelched through it with every step, and it soaked his jeans when he finally collapsed to his knees. His father’s face was covered in it, his head bent at an awkward angle. _

_ All Ronan could see were his father’s eyes,_ his _eyes, staring unseeing at the sky. _

“Didn’t realize you were in the business of taking in strays,” Ronan says, ignoring Adam completely. 

Gansey frowned. “Ronan, behave,” he said at the same time Noah said.

“You do realize he befriended _us?”_

Ronan rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up on the table. “Whatever.”

When Gansey realized Ronan wasn’t going to say anything else, be burst in, “The Pig broke down this morning. Adam fixed it for me, good as new.”

“I wouldn’t say _good as new. _You might want to bring it by the shop sometime so I can give it a once-over. I’m surprised it doesn’t break down more.”

“Oh, it does,” Gansey said cheerily.

“Like every week,” Noah said.

“Typically a good kick will get in running again,” Ronan added. 

Ronan watched as Adam drank from his glass of water, fingers curling around the rim. Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate. 

“What do you mean by shop, does your family own one? ?” Gansey asked.

Adam’s face fell, so quickly you would only notice if you were paying attention. Ronan was. “No, I work at Boyd’s part time.”

“You work? How _fascinating. _I always wanted a side job, just to see what it’s like-“

Ronan cut in before Gansey could obliterate himself even further. A crease had formed between Adam’s brows. “He doesn’t mean to be condescending. He’s like this to everyone. We can hardly take him out in public.”

Adam laughed, and the tension diffused. Gansey still looked confused, and Noah added, “Some people have to work for money, Gansey.”

Before Gansey could dig himself into a deeper hole, they were interrupted by a waitress. Ronan noticed it wasn’t their usual one. 

He looked at Gansey and grinned. His friend looked ill.

“I’m Blue,” the spiky haired waitress said. “Kelly clocked out early so I’ll be taking over. Can I take your order?”

Noah looked downright ecstatic. He flipped carelessly through the menu. _“So _many options. I can’t decide. Ronan, you go ahead?”

Ronan glanced at the menu and back at the table. “Hm. I don’t know yet. Dick, you can order first.”

“Adam-“ Gansey said helplessly.

Blue snapped, “Can one of you just order?”

Gansey swallowed, and Noah and Ronan could barely contain their laughter. Even Adam grinned faintly. “Yes. I’ll have the, uh, cooked salmon?” 

Ronan coughed into his napkin. 

“Well,” Blue said, “This is not a seafood establishment.” 

“Right. Of course,” Gansey said. Noah dug his fingers into Adam’s arm. “In that case, could I just have a plain burger? Lettuce, please.”

She scribbled it down. Adam ordered a bowl of soup, the cheapest thing on the menu. Noah got a pizza and Ronan got a salad.

“Alright. Your order should be right out,” Blue said, turning away.

“That went well,” Ronan said dryly. Gansey had his face buried in his hands.

“I don’t even eat meat. I’m a vegetarian, for God’s sake. I just killed an innocent cow and-“

Adam grinned at this. 

“Dick,” Ronan said, “Calm the fuck down. Why do you think I ordered a salad?”

Gansey sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ronan.”

“I know,” Ronan said simply. 

The food arrived, but Ronan couldn’t take his eyes off Adam. Did he know? Did he see his clock tick down too?

The check came, but none of them were in any hurry to leave. Noah was trying to encourage Gansey to go ask for Blue’s number, and Adam watched them amusedly. 

Ronan’s phone had been vibrating on and off for the past half-hour, but he was in no mood to talk to Declan again.

The moment broke when Adam glanced down at his watch. His face contorted, but then his mask was back up. “Shit. I have to go.”

“It’s only six,” Gansey said. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Adam stacked his plate and trash in the center of the table, a weird gesture that made Ronan’s chest tighten. “I’m late. I completely forgot about my shift at Boyd’s.”

Gansey frowned. “Surely you can-“

Noah silenced him with a glare, “Remember our conversation about money?”

“Sorry. Thanks again, Gansey. I’ll see you around.”

Him and Noah exchanged an elaborate handshake. Ronan had no idea when they’d managed to come up with it. Adam merely gave Ronan a cool nod and then left, tattered messenger bag over his shoulder. 

He was halfway out the door before Gansey began talking about him, “See, he really is great. You should’ve seen him fix the Pig, it was-“

Ronan tuned Gansey out and watched Adam through the window. Instead of heading towards one of the cars already in the lot or fishing through his bag for keys, he mounted a rusty metal bike laying near the Camaro. 

His empty glass of water flashed through his mind, as well as his worn jeans and the look on his face when he looked at his watch. He clearly wasn’t the typical Aglionby student. 

“Ronan,” Gansey said, annoyed enough that it clearly wasn’t the first time he’d asked, “what did you think of Adam?”

Adam’s silhouette was faintly illuminated by the moonlight as he pedaled down the road. Darkness swallowed him up, but Ronan couldn’t erase him from his mind. His freckles, the wry turn to his lips, his _hands-_

Really things worked out perfectly. Adam was none the wiser that Ronan was his soulmate, and Ronan was free to ignore it and carry on with his life unburdened. It was for the best.

“He’s okay,” Ronan said.

“Just okay?” Noah asked. “I like him. He actually wanted to make a handshake with me, unlike _some _people.”

“Fuck do you want me to say?” Ronan snapped. 

Meeting Adam changed nothing. He didn’t need a soulmate.

It was for the best.

-

Adam pulled himself out from under the convertible, wiping at a thin bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Henrietta’s summers were relentless, even during the night. 

Boyd was asleep at his desk, head propped on one hand and boots hanging off his desk. His radio hummed out a mindless pop song. As the night wound down and less and less customers appeared, Adam noticed the radio migrated slowly from eighties’ rock hits to jaunty pop tunes.

His coveralls were filthy and the shirt beneath was stained with grease and god-knew-what else. He made a note to stop by the laundromat this week. 

It was well into the midnight hour, and exhausted didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. He closed his eyes next to the bright red convertible.

The night was peaceful. Locusts chirped in the background and tree leaves brushed together, creating a soft whir of a noise. A car engine roared by, and Adam was snapped out of his reverie.

He wiped off his fingers one last time, although it really just smeared the grease around instead of actually cleaning it, and forced himself up.

Boyd started as Adam rapped his fingers against the desk. “Done for the night, Parrish?”

“Yes sir,” Adam said, “already clocked out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Boyd blinked a few times. He was a graying man, probably in his fifties if Adam had to guess. He had three pictures of his grandchildren on his desk, and Adam hated looking at them.

“Alright, boy. You know, you really could take a break sometime. You work some ungodly hours.”

Adam shrugged, “I could.”_ But he wouldn’t. _He ducked out through the open garage door and located his bike. 

It wasn’t until later. One long bike ride and quick shower in ice-cold water later. He was pouring over his history notes for the test tomorrow, eyes heavy and slipping shut. 

He turned a page and his eyes slid right over it at first. A trick of the light, or a figment of his imagination.

Adam looked again. Rubbed a thumb under his wrist. The mark stayed there. 

0:00.

He had met his soulmate, sometime today. He also had no idea who the hell she was.


End file.
